


The Promised Land

by Zoadgo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent Post 2x12, City of Light, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:25:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoadgo/pseuds/Zoadgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But there is no going back to where you came from once you’ve passed through their gates. It’s either the City of Lights or the Dead Zone after that, and neither one is easy.”</p>
<p>“Well, I’ve never been much for taking the easy path.” The sun finally begins to win against the night sky, deep red teasing the top of a dune. Murphy knows he’ll hate that ball of fire in an hour or so, but for now it’s amazing. The conversation, such as it was, ends easily, leaving Murphy and Emori to watch the sunrise together. It’s sort of funny to Murphy that this is definitely going to be one of his happiest memories, sitting next to a girl who tried to kill him, immediately after she told him his mission would essentially doom him to a life of hardship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Promised Land

He can still feel her thumb pressed against his cheek. It doesn’t matter to him that he has a bruise forming where she’d knocked him unconscious, Murphy can’t stop thinking about her. The way her voice had sounded when she’d whispered in his ear, her clothed hand gripping him with an incredible strength while the bare one held a knife to his throat. Hell, it’s the closest to romance Murphy’s ever come.

“So, John, you have found your faith.” Jaha’s voice behind him isn’t exactly a surprise, and it doesn’t annoy Murphy as much as he thought it would. Being called ‘John’ still feels a little weird, but somehow everything just feels a little more right at the current point in time, and Murphy is not stopping to question it.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Murphy has a smile on his face as he says it. It’s not faith that caused him to set off at the head of the group, a position which he still holds. It was her, just three simple words telling him to head due north.

“Faith in a person is faith nonetheless, John.” Vaguely mystical, as always. Murphy just huffs out a half laugh and continues to walk.

He doesn’t want to think too much about Emori, because if he does, he’ll stop feeling. And normally that’s a good thing, but right now Murphy doesn’t feel guilty, or angry, or disgusted. Right now he feels good, he feels accepted. Emori had heard from his own lips the most basic version of what he’d been condemned for, and she hadn’t even commented on it, had instead shared her own secret with him. Sure, she’d held a knife to his neck and robbed them, but Murphy would be lying if he said he didn’t like it at least a little bit. Good people had never really done much for him.

“We should probably sleep during the day, if we can find any shelter. It might helps us last a little longer without water.” Murphy doesn’t exactly know where that idea came from, but it makes sense to him. Even now, they’re all almost sweating, and the deadzone is bitingly cold. Moving during the day seems like a recipe to lose hydration.

“Good plan.” Jaha immediately falls even further behind, presumably to talk to the rest of the group. They don’t matter to Murphy. He’s just set on finding the City of Lights, or whatever due north holds for him. He has no reason to trust Emori, aside from gut instinct, but he has no more reason to trust anyone else. Holding grudges has gotten him nowhere so far, so maybe it’s time to try doing what feels right.

They end up finding a twisted metal structure to seek shelter from the sun in, just as the horizon begins to take on a slightly discernible shade of blue. Everyone head in, clinging to where the shade will last the longest as Murphy volunteers to takes first watch. Jaha claps a hand on his shoulder with a smile when he passes him, and Murphy can’t help but return it. He settles against the outer wall of what could have once been a building, scanning the horizon but not really looking for anything. It’s not like they’d be much good defending themselves right now anyway.

The cold night air works a sort of magic on Murphy. He’s still awake, definitely, and as alert as ever, but he feels… comfortable, content, like everything’s actually going right. Murphy can’t remember the last time he’s felt like this. The sky doesn’t seem to want to give up its darkness easily, but Murphy doesn’t mind. He’s happy in the shadows, and the north star fills his gaze and his mind.

“You’re a terrible guard.” 

Murphy would have jumped were he standing, as a female voice comes out of the night off to his left, heartbeat kicking into high gear. He just laughs and turns to face the woman who he’s oddly glad to see, considering she had held a knife to his throat hours ago.

“Like I could stop you from killing us anyway.” Murphy knows he probably should resent her for what she did, but he doesn’t. It doesn’t feel like a betrayal to him, not when she had given him a direction in the same breath she has exhaled while knocking him out.

“True.” Emori comes over and leans next to him, not offering up a reason for why she’s there. Not that Murphy really wants to know, he’d probably just end up feeling bad. The silence between them isn’t strange, it almost feels like they’re old friends who know each other well enough to simply exist together instead of interacting.

They both stare at the sky for a long while, and Murphy’s glad that everyone was exhausted from their trek. No one ought to be stirring and disturbing this scene that just feels so peaceful, and so right for him to be a part of. Eventually Murphy realizes his gaze has fallen from the sky, and he’s leaning his head against the metal in order to look up at Emori. She’s so beautiful, but not in the way the butterflies and flowers that everyone else had obsessed over were. No, Emori is more like Murphy’s knife, something deadly and useful, and gorgeous for what it is rather than what it appears to be.

“You still wish to go to the City of Light?” It takes Murphy a while to register the words, even though he’d been staring up at her lips as she spoke them. Of course he does, it’s all he wants at this point. Much as he might pretend to just be doing this because going back to camp would suck, Murphy wants a fresh start.

“Yes.” His voice seems too loud in the pre-dawn desert, and so Murphy simply answers the question. Even though he responds with just one word, it somehow seems more honest than all the poetic phrases in the world could have made it.

“You’re on the right track, then.” Emori looks down at him, and he smiles, but she doesn’t return it. She seems almost sad to inform him of how to get to the City of Lights. “You should reach the city before dawn tomorrow.”

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing? And why do you not go there yourself if you know where it is so well?” He doesn’t know why that didn’t occur to him before. Why would she tell him how to get to the City of Lights but not go herself? Surely she can’t prefer wandering the dead zone, preying on unsuspecting pilgrims like them.

Emori sighs and slides down to sit next to him, resting her forearms on her knees and staring at the sand between her feet. Murphy notices the cock to her shoulder where she’s pulled back her malformed arm in order to make it seem as if both of her hands end at the same point. He reaches out and touches her neck just above the joint, gently pushing it forward.

“You don’t have to hide that from me, you know I don’t care.” That does earn him a smile, a small, sad one. But at least she’s not looking at him as if she’s sending him to his death anymore. Her muscle relaxes slightly under his touch and Emori’s arm extends fully, left hand stretching significantly farther than the right.

“You are one of the few, John, who I would believe when they say that.” And Murphy can’t help the way that his heart clenches as his first name falls from her lips, sounding so much better than when Jaha says it. “And there is nothing I can say about the City of Lights that will dissuade you and yours from seeking it. I know that, because I was you at one point. Just remember that everyone is given a second chance there, heedless of what they may have done to ruin the first one.”

Murphy guesses she’s right. If he was willing to hunt down the city based off of the word of someone who had just held him hostage, there’s no way he would forget about it without seeing it with his own two eyes. And he can’t imagine it being that bad, if everyone there are like him, just looking for somewhere to belong. But a part of him wants to heed the unspoken warning in Emori’s voice and give up on the quest altogether, that part just isn’t the one in control right now.

“You’ve been there, though?” Emori nods at that. “So that means we can leave if we don’t like it.”

She nods again. “But there is no going back to where you came from once you’ve passed through their gates. It’s either the City of Lights or the Dead Zone after that, and neither one is easy.”

“Well, I’ve never been much for taking the easy path.” The sun finally begins to win against the night sky, deep red teasing the top of a dune. Murphy knows he’ll hate that ball of fire in an hour or so, but for now it’s amazing. The conversation, such as it was, ends easily, leaving Murphy and Emori to watch the sunrise together. It’s sort of funny to Murphy that this is definitely going to be one of his happiest memories, sitting next to a girl who tried to kill him, immediately after she told him his mission would essentially doom him to a life of hardship.

When the edge of the sun actually begins to peek over the sand, Emori stands up next to him, brushing off the sand that covers everything that remains stationary for more than a few minutes. Murphy looks up at her again as she rummages through a pocket, pulling out a smooth cylinder and handing it to him.

“John,” his name again, he hopes she never calls him Murphy, “if you should find the City of Lights doesn’t suit you, come back here and use this in the dead of night. I will find you.”

She hands him what turns out to be a flare, on further inspection, and by the time Murphy has it safely stored in his jacket, she’s disappeared. Clearly she knows how to move through the desert better than Murphy could ever hope to. Maybe one day she’ll be able to teach him, should things prove less than agreeable at the end of his journey.

Murphy pushes those thoughts from his mind as the last distant star fade from the sky, leaving him with just the one for company. He instead focuses on the arc of the sun, drawing an arrow in the sand. They won’t move again until nightfall, but knowing where north is sets his mind at ease. Murphy will find where he belongs, even if he has to pass several Sanctuaries to get it.

**Author's Note:**

> I AM MEMORI TRASH. Also, there wasn't an autocompleteing tag for Emori or for Murphy/Emori, does that mean I'm the first one?? If so, cool, y'all on tumblr need to start cross posting your fics 'cause I read the most adorable post City of Light fic earlier. Anyway! This is going to be my new Multichap, I hope you're all looking forward to that! And I promise that Murphy and Emori don't die, but I'll make no promises other than that.
> 
> [Coldsaturn](http://coldsaturn.tumblr.com) is the best and tells me if my stories that I wrote when half asleep are any good, so you all should go love her.
> 
> As always, I would loveto talk with you guys [on tumblr!](http://jonnmurphy.tumblr.com) And thanks in advance for commenting/viewing/leaving kudos <3


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